


Nicotine

by YoungSoon



Series: Addiction Series [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Smoking, Song Inspired, implied prostitution, not really romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungSoon/pseuds/YoungSoon
Summary: ...Burn my lungs and curse my eyes,I've lost control and I don't want it back.I'm going numb, I've been hijacked....I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you,So, I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do.You're worse than nicotine.[Panic! At the Disco - Nicotine]





	

Each inhale makes Hyunwoo’s lungs to ache, but he gasp for air desperately when the living definition of sin pulls away from his lips. A poisonous nicotine stick is between those kiss abused, angry pink lips, red microscopical sparkles dancing at its end. He sees the cheeks of the man currently straddling his lap hollowing as he inhales the poisonous substance deeply, before letting a out a cloud of grey, disgustingly smelling smoke in the air above them. There’s a sparkle in his copper eyes, hidden by the coffee-black hair, and his lips are back on Hyunwoo’s, his arms loosely around his neck, the cigarette still sparkling between his slim fingers.

The room is heavy with the scent of cigarettes, the only window obviously not washed for months, the city lights distorted and dirty through it. Each blanket and pillow, each piece of furniture and each centimeter of the pale pastel orange walls is soaked in the revolting stench and Hyunwoo would rather be anywhere but here. Yet he is here and he paradoxically wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here and now.

His hands roam the skinnier frame above him - each dent, each curve of muscles, each corner and angle, swallowing overly wanton moans with his lips. He feels the man above him starting to move - grinding his hips down and forward - the thin fabric of Hyunwoo’s underwear not being even the slightest protector against the friction, the sensation of the skin of their thighs rubbing together no less than amazing. The man he is now pushing down on the bed is naked near from the second they landed on the messed up baby blue covers. Hyunwoo doesn’t mind - he enjoys seeing other’s level of arousal rising as he knows it’s because of him.

The kiss is broken again, the taste of nicotine lingering on Hyunwoo’s lips, almost overpowering the intoxicating taste of the man who is now putting the cigarette out in an ashtray on the nightstand. It’s addicting. It’s unexplainable. It’s life ruining. It’s beyond being drug and any logical reasoning. Yet Hyunwoo doesn’t regret this addiction, at least in this current second he doesn’t.

They have long skipped any long foreplays and courtesy. Hyunwoo wanted to be here as much as he wanted to leave. He is ruthless - his fingers bruising the good three tones lighter thighs he has grabbed and lifted up, almost bending the smaller man below him in half, as he thrusts with no rhythm, with no care on how strong or overly deep he is going like a crazed animal. The bed is creaking and moving, bangind agianst the wall and scraping the floor, but neither of them truly cared.

The man underneath him is leaving painful marks on his shoulders, backs and arms, clawing as if for his dear life, moaning and screaming profanities from the top of his lungs. By this point Hyunwoo knows it’s more for the show, but he doesn’t care. He loves how those brown eyes water and how the most crude words fall from those cigarette tainted lips. 

By the end of it they both are a sweaty, panting messes and Hyunwoo barely manages to steal a kiss before a new white, tobacco filled roll appears from the half empty carton on the nightstand and the flame of the lighter flickers in the air for a second. A puff of smoke soon escapes in the air. That’s Hyunwoo’s cue to leave.

He gets out from the bed and collects his clothes that are scattered over the faded Turkish rug. He feels eyes on his back as he gets dressed, not caring about any of the mess on his body, as he would need a shower because of the stench of tar and nicotine lacing the air anyway. He would want to stay. He would want to simply hold the man, that was laying on the bed, not bothering to cover himself at all, for few hours. Yet the distorted reality around him, the mirages driven in his head by smoke could never fight back the truth.

He pulls a few bills from his pocket and recounts them before he leaves them on the nightstand next to the ashtray. Out of habit he wants to steal another kiss, but he is teaching himself not to. He needs to learn to hold back, to keep his stupid heart back, even though it feels that he will burn from inside out. 

“I probably won’t come back, Minhyuk,” he says as he walks to the door. He stops and waits for the man on the bed to say something, yet there is nothing. “I am serious,” he adds and turns around to see those copper eyes looking at him again. Minhyuk’s long slim fingers hold on to the cigarette before inhaling and letting a slow stream of smoke out from his lips. He taps the scolding ashes in the ashtray that has traveled from the nightstand to the bed in front of him, his eyes locked on Hyunwoo.

“Of course,” he let’s out a quiet laugh before the cigarette is back between his lips. He has a good reason to laugh. Hyunwoo has said the exact same words for countless times before, yet he always returns and Minhyuk knows he will return. He knows how addicting he is, how poisonous his kiss is to the taste, how venomous his moans are to the ears, how scolding are his touches to the skin. He knows Hyunwoo can’t fight it. And Hyunwoo knows it too. Yet he has to try. He has to try every single time he enters the shabby apartment in the downtown apartment building maze.  He has to at least try.

“Goodbye,” Hyunwoo says as he walks out the door, hoping it’s the last time. He stops in the hallway and listens. He hears quiet footsteps - bare feet on the tacky rug -, he hears the turning of the key and the click of the chain. The door behind him is now locked and he should see it both literally and metaphorically. He can do this. He is able to win over his addiction. 

It takes a week, no, 5 days and a long, rough day from 8 till 6 and Hyunwoo is in front of the locked door. His head is hanging low, shame the only feeling going through him as he had sworn to himself not to return. He can’t look up even when the doors open. There’s silence - already familiar witness of Hyunwoo’s weakness - and a hand takes Hyunwoo’s. He doesn’t hold back, he lets himself to be led into the cigarette scent filled rooms. He doesn’t fight back when he is stripped down to his underwear by skillful yet soft hands, smoke swirling around them. He doesn't object when he is pushed on the bed and a gorgeously naked frame is on top of him - copper eyes gleaming from underneath coffee-black bangs, a cigarette throwing red shadows between plump pink lips. For a bit, illusions could erase reality, for a moment Minhyuk was just his and that was enough… at least for that second it was enough.


End file.
